The Other Me
by imprimatur13
Summary: Shiki reminisces about SHIKI. Takes place shortly after Thanatos (Overlooking View).


The other one? The other one inside of me? He died, long ago. I can barely remember him. He was once part of me, but then he left. Was cut off. Or did he cut himself away from me? I suppose I really can't say. I feel so lonely without him. So, so lonely.

I have Mikiya now. I... I can't kill him. I want to kill him, but I know he wouldn't want that from me. He would let me do it, of course, but he doesn't want to die, nevertheless. Why do I want to kill him, anyway? Why do I want to kill at all?

Is it because he left me? Am I only trying to relive the feelings that would flow through my body like an electrical charge whenever he came out? Or... No, that's not it. Sure, I miss him, but there's something else. Ever since he left, I've been not just lonely, but empty. I feel like I am nothing but an empty shell, with the world outside like a force of death pressing against me, and as it presses against me, pushing me into myself so that I implode, there is an equally powerful force of nothingness inside of me. And this inner nothingness pulls me in so strongly that I am about to break at any second.

I don't want to break. I would much rather destroy this world that oppresses me with the scent of death everywhere. But, the death at the core of my being is just as dead. What can I do? I cannot separate myself from this sensation, attacking from within and without. Where is he? Where is the one who could take over for me at these times, and manage the impossible forces assaulting me? I hate it. I hate having to manage it all on my own. It kills me...

If only I wanted to die. Then I could let these brittle boundaries of emptiness shatter, and myself be swallowed by the death. The Void. So why am I cursed with this urge for self-preservation, making me continue living this empty life of hell? Even now, even with Mikiya at my side, strong and sweet, I don't feel safe. But I crave his company. I love him so much, he feels like just another part of me. Not that anyone could ever take the place of the "me" that is now gone, but perhaps he will be enough to soothe my raging heart.

I was born in death, molded by it. The truth is, even the brittle boundary is only a facade. I am a creature of death as much as anything else, or rather, far more so. I am Death. I am Emptiness. And therefore, I am Life. I am All. I derive my Life from Death, my Nothing from the Root of Everything. I love the Death that I hate, and so I am eternally doomed to suffer. I must live, therefore I must kill, therefore I must mix with Death, therefore I must suffer.

I wish to split myself once more. Then, I can once again be free of this eternal cycle of pain. One "me" with a desire to live, and another "me" with a desire to kill. One loves life, one loves death. Things are so much simpler when they're compartmentalized like that. When everything, the joy and the sorrow, is blended together, it's just too much to take. How can I split myself? Can it even be done, at this stage? I doubt it. The only path remaining, is to split my consciousness, or rather, my heart. If I can love another enough to shift focus away from myself, then perhaps I can dissociate from this body when needed. If I can kill without feeling joy in the act, if I can separate the pleasure and pain of death, then maybe this existence can become bearable.

Hence, I need to find someone I love enough to truly feel what they feel. If I can do that, I can kill them without any pleasure in the act at all. Killing can then become a thing of pure suffering for me, and I can deal with that. I can withstand the pain; in fact, it would make me feel even more alive. Life is nothing but sensation, in the end; and the stronger the sensation, the more powerful and more real the life is. It doesn't matter what sort of sensation. All are the same; they only differ in intensity.

I think I have found this person. I know that if I kill him, I will be able to dissociate my consciousness from my body during the act, and feel only the pain that he feels as my knife plunges into his heart. Then, after his body is motionless, all the lines cut, I will cause my consciousness to re-enter my own body, and feel the delight of cutting. Having inhabited his flesh, if only in my imagination, I shall have loved him more deeply than anyone has ever been loved. It would be a truly fitting end to our romance, greater and more tragic than any yet witnessed on this planet.

"So, Mikiya," Ryougi Shiki said. Her prone body on the bed was covered by her kimono and a thin bedsheet; her brown hair fell on her face as she spoke. "Let me kill you, okay?"

Mikiya looked up from his coffee, and smiled at her. "I would be willing to die for you, Shiki," he said. "But that's only because I'm weak. If I were a strong person, I would absolutely refuse to let you do something like that to yourself. I would never let you become a murderer."

This stupid, stupid boy. Why does he say such infuriatingly stupid things?

Why am I so stupid? He's right here, and it would be so easy, and it could solve so many problems...

Ah, shit. I can't kill him. I can't kill someone so stupidly uncaring about their own life.

"Shut up, Mikiya," Shiki said, and buried her head under the sheet.

* * *

End note: Wrote this after rewatching KnK 1 for the second time. Oddly, I disliked KnK 1 and 2 when I first saw them, but once I saw KnK 3 I fell in love with them retroactively. I'd probably enjoy writing something involving Fujino at one point.

I really do think I like writing short pieces like this. Lot of fun; gives me the opportunity to play around with my ideas of the characters.

Hope you liked it!


End file.
